Emotionless | DAERIN

1: the girl

"Come on, Haerin, let's go slide down the slide together!" she said, dragging me by my arm and leading me to the slide. "But this time, make sure you wrap your arms around me, like what couples do!" the mystery girl said while turning to face me, smiling.

"Your hair bothers me when I do that, and we're not a couple," I said bluntly as she continued dragging me to the slide.

"You're so mean, Haerin! It's a good thing I love you, so I forgive you for being a meany head, especially since you will be married to me someday."

I pulled my arm away. "I don't love you, and I don't know if I would marry you. I'm only seven."

She put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "I said someday you will. Now pwetty pwease go down the slide with me?" she asked with begging hands and giving me puppy dog eyes, which she knows I hate, but for some reason, I always give in.

"Okay, if it gets you to stop making me go down the slide, I will." She smiled, exposing some of her missing teeth. "Yay! I knew you would say yes because you love me!"

"Haerin? Did you even hear a word I said to you?" I lifted my head off the car window and saw my mom looking at me. I guess I zoned out again.

"This is the last time I'm repeating myself!" she said, rubbing her eyes. She's mad. "I said tonight your father and I will be going out, and we won't be home until later. So I went ahead and left food in the fridge you can warm up because God knows you can't cook." That's true.

I turned to look back out my window as we came to a stop in front of my high school, Melview High. I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door to get out of the vehicle.

"Have a good day today and try smiling for once or just practice it?" my mom said with raised brows.

I don't see why she tells me to smile? She knows I've given up. I turned and looked at my mom. "I am smiling. See." I know I'm not smiling because I never do and never will.

She just looked at me. "Uhh... yes, you are, and you look beautiful." She smiled and waved. "I have to go. I love you!" 'Love' what a strange word.

"I love you too," I told her, then shut the door. I can't feel or understand the concept of love very well, but as I grew up, it's become a habit for me to tell my parents those three words.

I listened as my mom's car disappeared and continued standing in my spot for a while, staring at my school.

I hate this place.

I took a deep breath, then exhaled and began my walk to my locker inside the building. On my way, I couldn't help but think about what my mom told me. Try smiling. I messed with my face a bit until I felt like I was smiling. I think I did it.

I got to my locker, opened the door, and looked at myself in the mini mirror I had hanging up on the inside. Of course. Nothing. I'm not surprised. I continued standing there, looking at my face and saw the same empty-eyed, blank, emotionless face staring at me. Why did I even try today?

I grabbed my art books, pen, and pencils, and began walking to my class. For one second, it would be nice to feel what other people feel. Or at least understand it better.

What most people don't know about me is that I suffer from a disorder called schizoid personality disorder. To make it short, it pretty much causes me to not express or show emotions like most people, so to work around it, I learned to say whatever is on my mind, no matter how rude or blunt it is.

I've had this disorder since I was very little, about seven years old. The doctors said there was no cure for my disorder, which upset my parents, but it didn't bother me any. They tried helping me themselves by taking me to different therapists or teaching me how to show emotions themselves, but soon gave up and just accepted my disorder. So now, because of it and growing up, for ten years with it, I soon became the weirdo in this school. Everyone treats me like a disease, but I couldn't care less. Literally. I didn't feel the need to tell anyone because it wasn't their business.

There was also another thing I learned that helps me express my emotions. That one thing was art, which is the class I'm heading to right now.

I entered my class, barely beating the bell, and walked straight to my easel. I put my things down and grabbed my pencil and paintbrush and started painting, not even paying attention or caring what my teacher was telling us. At first, I didn't know what I was drawing, that is, until I was finished.

I put my things down and looked at the painting. It was of the little girl in my dreams. Who is she and why was I thinking about her all of a sudden? I ignored the thought, grabbed my painting, and turned it in as my daily assignment.

My teacher, who goes by Mr. Tag, like always, complimented my work. It's annoying because he keeps me standing there while he rambles on about things I don't care about. I always have to bite my tongue to make sure I don't say anything rude.

Once he was done praising me, he allowed me to be excused for the rest of the class, causing snide remarks and papers to be thrown at me from other students. I'm guessing they're mad, but not my problem.

Mr. Tag started getting onto them as I walked out of the classroom. I can finally be alone now, I thought as I headed to the school's rooftop.

I walked up the school's stairs, which is pretty tiring to walk up, but once I was in front of the metal door, I knew I could finally be by myself. I opened the heavy door and began walking to the edge of the roof and sat down and just stared at the view. I think I'm happy right now, or I could be mad. Sometimes I get those two emotions mixed up somehow.

I stayed sitting there for quite some time, but my peaceful time was cut short when I heard the bell ring, meaning it was time for me to leave for my next class. I stood up, dusting myself off, and grabbed my books.

I was fixing to turn and leave, but when I looked up, I noticed a familiar figure with blonde flowing hair in the distance, but that was all I could see since the figure quickly vanished as fast as it appeared for me to get a better look. I decided to forget about it and just continue the rest of my day.

I turned and headed back inside. As I was slowly making my way downstairs to my next class, I heard a familiar voice. "Where do you think you're going?"

I turned around and saw the school bully. Of course, I had to run into him. "What do you want, Taesan? I have class in five minutes, so make this quick," I snapped at him.

He scrunched up his face. I think he's happy. He then started stomping my way. Nope, he's mad.

Once he was in front of me, he grabbed my collar and held me up against the wall. "You better watch how you're talking to me, or else." He's too close.

"Your breath stinks," I said bluntly. He lifted up his arm, pulled it back, then punched me in the stomach a couple of times. Still holding me by the collar, he breathed his nasty breath in my face, then dropped me to the ground and started walking away.

"Next time it'll be worse!" he yelled. How come when this happens there's no one around or hears what's happening? This school sucks.

I slowly got up, grabbed my things, and began making my way to class again. Physically, I looked like I was fine and unfazed, but mentally I was in pain about being punched or just upset about being late for class. I think it was both.

Why does high school have to be such a pain? I thought, walking to class. Now I have to explain why I was late, and I hate doing that.